Hand of Fate, finale (Patreon)

Ben snored contentedly, his handsome face a mask of innocence while he slept.  His soft, full lips curled into a slight smile beneath his messy mop of blonde hair.  One well-muscled arm rested above his head on the pillow while the other stretched out next to him.  His bulging, granite pecs rose and fell slowly with each deep, steady breath.  The tapering outline of his sculpted torso under the thin sheet led down to a towering tent caused by his huge, solid cock as he dreamt peacefully.  

Tom envied his friend’s carefree slumber as he watched Ben sleep through the open doorway from the other room.  His body still tingled from the pounding his virgin hole had received.  Just thinking about it made him hard.  He knew something was happening to both of them, that none of this was normal or even should have been possible, but that didn’t make it any easier to deny the increasing lust he felt whenever he looked at his newly buff friend.  Even from the other room his mouth watered at the sight of the tantalizing mound in the sheets and the knowledge of what lurked underneath.  He could still feel the warmth of the oozing organ in his hands, and his bare skin broke out in goosebumps when he thought about how it had felt sliding inside him.  The thought of Ben’s powerful body towering over him turned him on in a way he never could have imagined.  The taste of his friend’s breath as they kissed, the softness of his lips, the way Ben’s large, rough hands felt running up and down his slender body; all of it played in Tom’s mind on an endless loop.  He had to resist the urge to crawl back under the sheets and drape himself across his enlarged friend.  Even after he’d been fucked by the other man, Tom originally told himself he’d gone to bed with Ben just to humor him.  It was easier than trying to argue with his increasingly confused friend, he rationalized.  Now, using all of his willpower not to return, he knew it was really because he loved how it felt to be snuggled up against Ben’s powerful new body.  

“Fuck…” Tom sighed quietly, forcing himself to look away.  He shook his head and tried to ignore his own rigid cock as he sat at the table and examined the medallion.  Already he was seeing a familiar pattern in his own behavior.  In the hours since he and Ben had gone at it, he hadn’t even thought about putting anything on.  At this point he was afraid to, fearing that his clothes wouldn’t fit the way Ben’s hadn’t when all of this began.  

He knew the strange object they’d found was to blame.  He didn’t know how, but turning it over in his hands, he could sense a strange pulse coming from the metal, like it was vibrating.  He ran his fingers over the intricate carvings and couldn’t help but feel like the red gemstone in the middle of the palm actually was watching him like a real eye.  He put it back in the box and sealed the latch, dreading the thought of winding up like his friend.  Having his lean frame inflated to studly, bodybuilder proportions would be bad enough, but the true horror would be having his IQ plummet the way Ben’s had.  He’d been trying not to think about it.  He had no idea what he’d say to their friends and family by way of explanation.  How would he even begin to explain what caused the smart, college educated young man to become a ripped, oversexed idiot? 

Tom rubbed his face, trying to force the pang of guilt away.  This was all his fault.  He’d been the one that spotted the box.  Ben said it creeped him out but he went in after it anyway.  If he’d left well enough alone none of this would even be happening.  

“MMMMMMmmmmm...mmmm…..” 

His attention snapped back to the bedroom at Ben’s loud moan and Tom saw spurts of cum force themselves through the thin sheet as the burly man came in his sleep.  Ben squirmed without waking and let out a low sigh before his snores resumed.  

Tom’s hand drifted to his solid rod and he recoiled as if from a hissing serpent when he realized what he was doing.  He was trying desperately to keep his wits about him.  If they had any hope at all, it was up to him to figure out what was happening before it was too late.  

“I’ve gotta keep it together...I can’t fix this if I let myself end up like that…” he repeated to himself, taking a few deep breaths.  He tried to will his solid cock away.  He closed his eyes and thought of every unsexy image he could imagine, but it was no use.  “Goddamnit!”  He gave up and stared down at the persistent organ.  “Would you just...go…” the words dried up in his throat.  He jumped up from the chair and frantically rummaged for the tape measure.  “Oh fuck….oh fuck….oh fuck…” his trembling hands sent the tape measure clattering to the wooden floor.  Though he was harder than he could ever remember being, his nearly seven inch cock measured in at just under six.  

Tom had no idea what that meant.  Ben had gotten bigger, so would he get smaller?  He ran to the full-length mirror in his room and stared at himself.  Other than the lost inch between his legs, he thought he looked more or less the same.  He still had the same lean, toned body with the light coating of raven hair spreading across his modest pecs and down his firm abs.  Then he turned to the side.  Tom’s olive complexion paled at the inflated cheeks he saw where his perky little bubble should have been.  He flexed them wordlessly and shook his hips, trembling as he saw and felt them jiggle.  

He turned away from the mirror, taking deep, slow breaths to try and steady his racing pulse.  The terror at least helped him focus as he formulated his plan.  He needed to hurry.  

**********

“Hey...Ben…” Tom gently nudged his sleeping friend.  It was still early, but he was running out of time and needed to get out while he could.    

Ben stirred slowly, smiling sleepily up at Tom.  “Mm...wha...oh...hey,” he said groggily, a hand reaching out to rest on Tom’s thigh.  “Mornin’..”

Tom’s stomach fluttered at Ben’s sleepy smile.  The still-tented sheet was damp from another two releases during the night, but the bulky blonde didn’t seem to notice.  “Good morning,” Tom said, stroking his friend’s hair.  “I have to run out for a bit, but I need you to do something really important for me, okay bud?”  He searched Ben’s sparkling eyes for a sign that any of his friend’s previous intelligence had returned, but came up empty.  “It’s super important that you stay in the apartment, okay?  Don’t go anywhere.  If anyone comes to the door other than me, don’t answer it.  Okay?”  

“Okay!” Ben nodded eagerly.  His hand drifted up to the fuller seat of Tom’s pants, giving it a squeeze.  

Tom laughed and gently pulled Ben’s hand away.  He’d just jerked his shrinking cock to buy himself some time and he couldn’t afford to get stuck now.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  He bent and gave Ben a quick peck on the forehead before grabbing the box with the medallion and hurrying out.  

He was a nervous wreck as he drove towards the university.  He’d taped a note to the door reminding Ben not to go anywhere, but he honestly didn’t even know if his friend could still read.  He kept imagining a hard, naked Ben wandering out and getting himself arrested, or worse.  And then there were the changes to his own body.  He’d barely been able to pull on his pants due to the growth at his ass, and he could already feel his t-shirt tightening.  

The idea to reach out to Professor Blakely had come to him in the midst of his panic last night.  The professor taught in the anthropology department and Tom had taken a class on historical cults from him just before graduating.  It was a slim chance, but if anyone could at least point them in the right direction, it was him.  He’d looked up the professor’s current schedule and hoped to catch him after his morning class.  

Tom’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest as he stood outside the door waiting for Professor Blakely to finish his lecture.  He knew he needed to sound convincing without sounding like a lunatic.  He fought his way through the stream of students and into the room as soon as class was over.  

“Excuse me, Professor Blakely?  Do you have a second?”  

“Office hours start at noon,” the professor said, not turning away from the whiteboard he was busily erasing.  He was a tall, lean man of sixty who looked like he’d been born in a tweed blazer.  His small, wire-rimmed glasses sat low on his nose and he had a head of surprisingly full, silver hair.  

“I’m really sorry to bother you, but it’s an emergency,” Tom pleaded.  

The professor laughed and finally turned away from the board to face Tom.  “An anthropological emergency?  That’s not one I hear very often.”  He cocked his head and looked Tom up and down slowly.  “Are you one of my students?”  

“I was,” Tom said quickly.  “I took your cults class my Senior year.”  

“Thomas, right?”  

“Wow.  You remember?”  Tom shook the professor’s extended hand.  

The professor laughed again and tapped the side of his head.  “It’s all up here.  Hasn’t gone anywhere yet, despite outward appearances.  Since I seem to remember you being one of the few interested students, I think I can spare a few minutes.  What’s the emergency?”  

“Thank you,” Tom said, breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled the small wooden box out of his bag.  “This might sound weird, but my friend and I found this when we were jogging last weekend and I’m trying to figure out what it is.  It looks like a Hand of Fatima, but I can’t peg the writing.  I’ve searched all over the internet and came up with squat.”  

The professor adjusted his glasses and examined the outside of the box before lifting the lid.  Tom didn’t like the change that came over his suddenly serious expression.  He liked it even less when the professor took a step away from the table when he finally opened the box.  “Where did you find this?” Professor Blakely asked quietly, staring intently at the medallion.    

“In...in the reservation.  Ben and I like to jog off-trail and we found it in a small cave.  It was just sitting there.”  

“You found it here?  Recently?”  

Tom nodded.  “Is...something wrong?”  

Professor Blakely took a deep breath and shook his head slowly.  “I don’t honestly know.  What I do know is the reason you had such a difficult time placing the language.  I’ve come across a handful of references to it over the years...a cult that was rumored to exist in the Middle East in the days before the pyramids were built.  We know next to nothing about it, but the few surviving records we have indicate that nothing good ever came of associating with them.  The gods they worshipped aren’t names that should ever be spoken.”  He wiped his trembling hands on his blazer and laughed nervously.  “I apologize for acting so spooked, but I never thought I’d actually see one of their artifacts in person.  If I didn’t know firsthand how obscure this writing is I’d think you were playing a very elaborate prank on a poor old man.  If this is real, and I’m not saying that you made this up, mind you, but if this isn’t the work of another contemporary...this is a priceless artifact.”  

“Can you translate it?”  

The professor shook his head.  “No...the writing isn’t a language like you and I think of it.  These aren’t individual letters, but entire phrases and passages.  I’ve only ever heard one person speak them out loud and believe me when I say you don’t want to experience that.  The sound is like a mix of grunting and retching...quite unsettling.  At any rate, he passed away back in the eighties, and he was the only person I knew of that was familiar with the language.”  He looked up at Tom with a raised eyebrow.  “What aren’t you telling me, son?  Why do you need this translated so urgently?”  

Tom didn’t know where to begin.  “I know this is going to sound absolutely crazy.  If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t believe it either, but...that medallion...it...it’s doing something to me and Ben.”  

“Define ‘something’ for me.”  

“It’s changing us.  Physically and mentally.  And not in a good way.”  Tom braced himself for the professor’s inevitable incredulous reaction.  Instead, he simply pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.  

“I’ve been in this field long enough to see more than my fair share of oddities,” he said softly.  “I’ve seen things that defied all logical explanation...things that give me nightmares to this day.  This,” he gestured at the box, “is going to be one of them.  My gut tells me you’re on the level, which means we have a very serious problem on our hands.  Someone, or something, put this in that cave, which means a cult that shouldn’t still exist is somehow active in our town.”  He put his glasses back on and looked Tom up and down again.  “More importantly, in the time we’ve been standing here I’ve watched you change.”  He nodded towards the seam on the side of Tom’s pants that was starting to split around his enlarging thigh, and the patch of exposed, hairy stomach caused by his t-shirt riding up as his pecs pushed outwards.  

“Oh god...it’s really happening…” Tom frantically described the changes that Ben underwent, and that he was currently undergoing, in humiliating detail.  To his credit, the professor’s stoic expression never wavered.  “Please!  You’ve gotta help us!”  

“Easy, Thomas, easy,” Professor Blakely said, patting Tom on an increasingly broad shoulder.  “We’ll figure this out.  Let me make some phone calls and do some digging.  In the meantime, try not to panic.  Knowing what happened to Ben, I might suggest that you make some preparations now.”  

Tom nodded, trying to steady himself.  “Do you want to keep it?”  

“No!” The professor spat quickly.  “That is, until we know what’s happening, the best place for it is with you.  We can’t risk it vanishing on us in case we need it to undo whatever this is, and we can’t risk it spreading to someone else until we know what’s causing all this.  Keep it safe.”  

Tom and the professor parted ways, with the professor promising to call in a few hours.  The changing young man was numb and shell shocked as he climbed into his car and drove to the store.  Preparations?  It sounded final already.  Each item that he threw into the cart made him feel more and more like a condemned man, but he soon realized the necessity.  Halfway through the store he heard a loud rip as his pants finally gave out.  The seams that had been straining failed spectacularly, ripping down the sides of his expanding legs and between his inflating cheeks.  He blushed when several heads turned at the sound and hurried over to the fitting room.  After an awkward exchange with a young man who was clearly checking him out, he’d pulled on a pair of baggy track pants he’d been intending to buy.  He couldn’t believe what he saw in the mirror.  Already he looked like a different person.  His loose t-shirt was plastered on like a second skin, showing off the pecs that had grown to twice their size while the sleeves threatened to rip around his growing biceps.  It was no wonder that the man was checking him out.  His tight shirt was riding high enough that it was practically a cut off, and coupled with his too-small pants the man probably thought he was showing off on purpose.  He tried to avoid looking at the solid cock outlined against his confining underwear.  He didn’t know if it had continued to shrink or if it just looked smaller because of his larger thighs, but either way the result was the same.  Part of him was terrified, but part of him was grateful that the looseness of the track pants combined with the growing tightness of his boxer briefs meant his rigid, shrinking cock wasn’t as obvious as Ben’s huge member had been.  Still, Tom knew it was only a matter of time before even these baggy pants were significantly tighter.  

He finished his shopping in a daze.  He’d bought several extra sets of sheets and enough food that it looked like he was preparing for a hurricane.  He wasn’t even sure if Ben could cook anymore, so he bought simple heat-and-eat items, trying not to lose it in the middle of the store.  The thought of the two of them lumbering dimly around the apartment as muscle bound meatheads, unable to find their way out of a paper bag, was too much to process.  What would they do for money?  If they both wound up that way, how would they even survive?  

Tom told himself that he was picturing the worst-case scenario as he headed for home.  He didn’t actually know how much of Ben’s brain power remained.  His friend didn’t seem as smart as he used to be, but it wasn’t as if Tom had tested him to find out.  He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed as he struggled up the stairs with his many bags.  

“Ben, I’m home!” he called, holding his breath as he listened for his friend.  The silence made him imagine the worst again until he heard the heavy footfalls come from around the corner.  

“Hey!”  A naked, rigid Ben came into the room, grinning from ear to ear.  “You’re home!”  

“Hi big guy,” Tom said, quickly shoving the bags inside and shutting the door before a neighbor could walk by.  

“I did what you said!” Ben sounded almost proud at following the simple instruction.  

“Good...good job…” Tom stammered, overcome with lust at being near his friend.  Giving in was inevitable, but he hoped he could get more information first.  “Did you see my note?”  He pulled the piece of paper from the back of the door as Ben nodded.  “Can you tell me what it says?”  

Ben looked confused but read the paper anyway.  “Ben,” he said slowly, clearly having to focus, “Stay in the apartment and don’t go anywhere.  Don’t open if someone knocks.”  

Tom tried not to let his relief show.  That was one worry off his list.  “Great!” he said, tousling Ben’s blonde hair.  His grinning friend didn’t appear to have changed anymore since he’d left, which was also a good sign.  “Wanna help me put all this stuff away?”  

Ben scampered over and Tom felt his rigid cock start oozing as he stared at his friend’s huge, plump cheeks while Ben bent and dug through the bags.  He forced himself to look away, feeling another wave of relief at the sight of the discarded bowl of oatmeal in the sink.  “Did you make yourself breakfast?”  

“Uh-huh,” Ben said absently while Tom stared at his, tiny nipples that were hard from standing in front of the open freezer.  

Tom shook his head and reached for a bag, only to hear another rip as his shirt tore.  “Whoops,” he laughed as the shredded t-shirt hung off his expanding torso.  

Ben stared at him for a moment, realization slowly dawning.  “You...you’re getting bigger too!”

“Looks that way,” Tom said sullenly as he pulled the shirt off and let his hairy, increasingly- sculpted torso stay exposed.  Looking down, already his furry pecs were huge, obscuring the view of the rest of his body.  He couldn’t help but feel a slight swell of pride at the lust in Ben’s eyes while his friend stared hungrily at him.  

“It’s fun!” Ben said, flexing a mighty arm while he grabbed his huge pole with the other. 

“Actually, that’s, uh, that’s getting smaller, I think...” Tom said awkwardly, nodding towards Ben’s oozing cock.  

The blonde stud looked confused for a moment, cocking his head.  “Wait...it is?  Lemme see!”  In one quick motion he stepped forward and pulled both Tom’s track pants and tight underwear down.  His pent up lust combined with the sudden sensation of his shrinking cock springing free pushed Tom over the edge.  He gasped as he came unexpectedly, launching ropey strands all over Ben’s round, mammoth chest.  Ben just giggled under the sticky rain.  “It’s so small,” he laughed.  

Tom was mortified at the unanticipated release and his friend’s laughter at his shrinking cock.  Before he could look down and see for himself, Ben reached out and swallowed his entire package in one meaty paw.  “OOOHhhh…” he groaned in terror.  He knew what it meant if Ben could cover his rigid equipment with one hand.  He couldn’t be more than a few inches, but he ground the tiny organ against Ben’s palm, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder.  “Wait...wait…” he panted.  “Not yet…” He forced himself to step away and out of his pants, already noticing how different his body felt.  The lack of a heavy, bobbing package between his meatier thighs felt foreign as his inflated globes bounced with each step.  Even the way his thickened arms hung at his sides felt off.  His growing body rubbed together in new and different ways, only adding to the now-constant arousal he was feeling.  

He hurriedly put the rest of the food away and staggered into the living room, grateful that he’d bought the extra sheets and furniture covers.  There were several damp spots on the couch from Ben already, and given his recent, unwanted release, he knew that was in store for himself as well.  He was disgusted at the thought of the two of them rutting helplessly in their cum-stained apartment, but a growing part of his brain could only focus on the rutting aspect of that scenario.  His tiny cock was already oozing again and he almost came at the sight of the hairy hunk he saw reflected in the mirror.  

He gasped and staggered backwards, unable to believe that he was looking at himself.  The man had broad, striated shoulders that led to a set of sculpted, piston-like arms.  The pecs that wedged those powerful arms apart were huge and round, hanging like a shelf above a waist that pinched inwards at his hips.  Tom understood why Ben laughed when he saw the rigid little nub standing out between his widened quads.  It was three inches at most, with a pair of tiny matching balls.  There was a growing bead of liquid at its tiny head as he turned to look at his impossible new ass.  Like Ben, what was once a perky bubble was now a mountain of round, supple flesh.  With the light coating of dark, wiry hairs spread seductively over his olive complexion, he would have been the picture of masculinity if it weren’t for his shrunken little rod.  As it was, his proportions looked almost cartoonish.  Instead of his lean, equally developed body, he was all chest and ass.  

“No...this...holy shit…” he stammered as he poked at his growing muscles.  Horror crept up his spine as he looked at his face and saw a familiar dull smile and absent look staring out of his brown eyes.  He staggered out of the bathroom, stumbling on his new legs as he searched for his phone.  He needed to call Professor Blakely and tell him to hurry.   He only made it a few steps before slamming into Ben’s solid frame.  “Ben...hold on...I need to get my phooooOOOOHHH!”  

Tom was cut off when Ben dropped to his knees and swallowed his shrunken package whole.  He came immediately, gasping and letting out a series of short, shocked laughs as Ben literally sucked him dry and kept going.  He clutched at his friend’s blonde head, spasming from the intensity shooting through him.  Tom could see his phone on the counter, but it might as well have been on the moon.  Ben had a deathgrip on his ample new rear holding him in place, and even if he didn’t, Tom doubted that he could muster the willpower to resist any more.  He desperately wanted what was happening, and then some.  There was an ache growing in the ever-deepening valley between his bouncing globes and only Ben could ease it.  

“Ben...fuck...I...I need it…” Tom begged, pulling Ben’s face from his crotch.  He knew he was slipping.  The face grinning up at him, with doe eyes and cum streaming down the chin, might as well have been his own.  It was only a matter of time until it would be his own, he knew.  

Ben didn’t share Tom’s concern.  He stood and eagerly pulled his hairy friend along into the bedroom.  The bed creaked and groaned under the increased weight as the two fell on it and rolled in a heap until Tom was on top, straddling Ben.  He reached behind and grabbed Ben’s massive pole, guiding it into position as he quickly raised up and impaled himself on it.  

“FUUUUUUCK YEEEEESSSSSS….” Tom bellowed as the oozing club slid inside.  He clutched at Ben’s perfectly squeezable pecs as he rocked his hips and bounced up and down.  His tiny rod sprayed again even as he felt Ben do the same.  He squirmed and bounced so hard the mattress shook off the bed and sent them tumbling in a giggling heap to the floor.  They only paused long enough for Tom to desperately throw his hairy thighs in the air while Ben plunged back in.  

Tom was mortified when he heard himself giggle like Ben.  He tried to focus, but his bouncing pecs and jiggling cheeks made paying attention to anything other than his friend’s relentless pounding impossible.  He stared helplessly at his tiny, spurting cock while Ben’s heavy balls slapped against his backside and knew this was his future; a desperate, horny bottom who couldn’t focus on anything other than what his buff body wanted.  

They went at it for hours.  In Ben’s bedroom, then Tom’s, then in the living room, then in the bathroom.  This time it was actually the hung blonde that tired out first, but by that point, Tom didn’t remember why that was significant.  

“I need...to take a break…” Ben panted.  They were both soaked with sweat and cum, as was the rest of their disheveled apartment.  

“Do you have to?” Tom whined, hating how empty he felt as a waterfall of cum poured out of him.  

“Just for a bit!” Ben chirped.  “I’m hungry.”  

“Me too!” Tom nodded as Ben pulled him to his feet.  He blinked and looked around the room, feeling like he was forgetting something important.  

**********

“How are we doing today, boys?”  Professor Blakely smiled at the two sculpted young men as he slid open the patio door.  Ben was spread out on a lounger, his huge cock tenting out his tiny briefs.  The ever-present damp spot was growing at the tip as he lazily sunned himself.  Next to him, Tom was stretched out face down, tanning his bare cheeks and broad back in the afternoon sun.  

“Hi prof!” Ben waved, shielding his eyes from the bright light overhead.  

“Hi doc,” Tom smiled as he rolled over, his rigid little pole as hard as ever.  

“Did we get our chores done?”  Blakely laughed when both men nodded eagerly.  “Good! Then everything will be ready for later?”  

Tom stood and grinned proudly.  “Yep!  I got the basement set up how you wa..wuuuuhh…” the hairy hunk gasped as his little hose sprayed without warning.  A spark of concern flashed across his eyes for only a moment before his dull smile returned and he continued.  “...set up how you wanted.”  

“You boys must have been busy if you’ve gone that long,” Blakely said, patting Tom on an inflated bicep.  If the two men went too long without release, it would happen spontaneously.  It wasn’t as bad with Tom, but when Ben sprayed without warning it was like a hose going off.  

He left the two men on the patio and went back inside.  It had only been a few months since their change, but they were both acclimating nicely.  There were the occasional moments of panic, but those would likely always remain.  

“I wonder if you’d still think it was worthwhile,” he asked aloud as he stared at Ben through the window.  The whole thing had been the young blonde’s doing, though he didn’t know that.  He’d wanted a bigger body and a better endowment.  He was tired of being thin and lean, and this desire had been brought to the cult’s attention during one of their rites.  His longing was great enough that it was heard on the other side.  The hand appeared before the cult in their ritual, and they knew what must be done.  Ben would be a sacrifice to the ancient ones, who longed to use their influence on the world they once ruled.  The cult was their instrument in affecting that change.  They fed on order, leaving tumultuous, reality-changing chaos in their wake.  

Once a cult member in town found out who Ben was, from there it was a simple matter to observe him and place the medallion where he’d find it.  It was said that the Hand could give the target whatever it was that they wanted.  That’s why even though Tom had been the one to find it, it had flown out of the box at Ben when they first opened the lid.  As always, though, the devil was in the details.  Ben got the body he wanted, but the uncontrolled libido, and diminished IQ were due to the chaotic nature of the forces at work.  

Once the blonde had undergone his changes, the hand kept working.  Whether he consciously knew it or not, Ben wanted a mate like himself, which is where Tom came in.  The young man found himself turned into an equally built, eager bottom, just like his hung friend wanted.  Blakely had been floored when Tom came to see him that morning on campus.  He never would have imagined that the young man would have sought him out, but it had been a good lesson in being more cautious going forward.  He’d given him the idea of going on a futile supply run as a way of keeping him busy and occupied while he contacted the other members to let them know it was working.  

He’d found the two desperately fucking in their apartment several days later.  Already their entire section of the building smelled like the boy’s floor of a college dorm, and he could hear them going at it as soon as he stepped off the elevator. The musky scent of sex and dried cum was overpowering when Blakely opened the door and found Ben slamming into Tom in the middle of the floor.  Given their current mental state it was easy enough to convince them to come with him.  They both remembered their lives before, and that something had happened to them, but they didn’t remember exactly what.  Their naive, trusting new demeanors made keeping them under control a simple thing.  Blakely kept them at his off-campus estate that the cult used for their meetings.  Sexual energy was a useful tool during their rites, and the two young men supplied it in droves.  The estate was a secluded mansion on a huge lot, well off the beaten path and away from prying eyes.  The cult’s influence made it easy for the men to disappear, though Blakely allowed them to go into town on a regular basis.  They didn’t know it, but they were trotted out as a warning to those who were aware of the cult and as a display of their power.  Watching the hunky, addled blonde cum uncontrollably in public sent a strong message.  Anyone thinking of crossing the cult’s path could wind up the same.  Or worse.  

Even Blakely was silently impressed with the Hand’s power.  What happened to Tom and Ben was the merest fraction of what it could do.  Left unchecked, the influence would have spread through the entire building, then the block, then the city.  Though its full potential had yet to be tapped, the ritual was still a success.  Blakely was tempted to use the hand for himself, but he knew the forces at work were too chaotic and unpredictable to be used reliably.  

At least not yet.